Chapter I: What Is Scholastic Philosophy?

The word scholastikós was already in use among the Greeks
to denote a man devoted to study. Ueberweg notes it in a letter of
Theophrastus to Phanias.[1]
Petronius seems to have introduced it among the Romans. Under
Quintilian it meant a rhetor or professor of eloquence, and we read in
St. Jerome that it was granted as a title of distinction to Serapio for
his unusual talent. At the opening of the Mediaeval schools, the term
was soon restricted to a purely didactic meaning. The
scholasticus became the instructor, and the system of thought
expounded in the cathedra, the Scholastic philosophy.

A distinguished French scholar, Barthélemy Hauréau, based
upon this etymology a definition of Scholastic philosophy which has
been generally accepted; and, on the whole, is the best we now possess:
Scholastic philosophy is the philosophy professed in the schools of the
Middle Ages, from the establishment of these schools to the day in
which the outside philosophy, the spirit of novelty disengaged from the
bonds of tradition, came to dispute with it, and withdraw from its
control the minds of men. "La philosophie scolastique est la
philosophie professée dans les écoles du moyen âge
depuis l'établissement jusqu'au déclin de ces
écoles, c'est-à-dire jusqu'au jour où la
philosophie du dehors, l'esprit nouveau, l'esprit moderne, se
dégageant des liens de la tradition, viendront lui disputer et
lui ravir la conduite des intelligences."[2]

Before we proceed to examine the difficulties to which this definition gives
rise, it will not be amiss to make a few observations, in order to dispel
all possible misunderstandings.

First of all, it seems that the etymological considerations which lead us to
identify Scholasticism with Mediaeval thought, ought to make us step beyond
the limits of the Middle Ages, and extend our definition to modern schools
as well. If it is the meaning of the words that guides us, there is no
reason why the philosophy taught from the cathedra of Koenigsberg by the
author of the Critique of Pure Reason should be any less scholastic
than the systems of Duns Scotus or Thomas Aquinas. And, indeed, some
writers, following this conception, speak of an Hegelian, a Cousinian, a
Schopenhauerian Scholasticism. The ridiculous outcome of this view is
obvious to every eye. It transforms into Scholastics all our university
teachers. It makes Scholastic philosophy co-extensive, not only wth the
doctrines of Kant, Hegel, Cousin and Schopenhauer, but with all modern
idealistic systems; nay, with the whole field of philosophical thought.
What system has not been expounded from a professor's chair? What
philosopher has not seen his doctrines espoused in some center of learning?
And we would thus be compelled to enlarge without limit the field of
Scholasticism, to open its gate, not only to Hegel or to William James, but
also, and with equal right, to Descartes and to Berkeley.

And yet, were etymology our sole guide, we should accept this view,
strange though it appear. But the original significance of a word does
not suffice to give us the key to its actual meaning. According to
John Locke, men seem to have been guided by wit rather than by judgment
in the formation of names; and a great discrepance has thus often come
to exist between the connotation of a term and its etymology. The
Greek word próbaton, which signifies sheep, is derived
from the verb probainô, to walk forward. Still,
no one would think of applying the word sheep to all beings walking
forward, to include under that name, not only all our domestic animals,
all denizens of the water and the air, save crabs and crawfishes, but
our own selves.

Scholastic philosophy was originally the philosophy of the schools; and, as
the name was given during the Middle Ages, it was applied to all Mediaeval
schools. When, at the beginning of the modern era, thought was suddenly
engaged in another direction, and controlled by men who did not expound
their principles from a professor's chair, a new philosophy arose, which was
not scholastic, and which, afer having controlled the minds of the new
generation, took possession of the schools themselves, and dethroned the old
philosophy, which, for centuries past, had exercised an undisputed
sovereignty upon the intelligences. The philosophy of the schools thus
ceased to be Scholastic, and the term acquired a definite meaning, and was
henceforward exclusively applied to denote Mediaeval speculation.

Scholastic philosophy, thus confined to a definite time, must also be
limited with regard to space. It would be absurd to extend it to all the
systems which arose in any point of our globe between the sixth and the
fifteenth century, to make it embrace, not only the philosophical systems of
the Arabs and the Jews, but also those of the Hindoos and of the Chinese.
It must be limited to the speculation of the western world, which, in spite
of numerous internal divergences, of many distinct and definite currents,
formed a single whole, of which Paris was the center, which soon found in
Aristotle an inspirer and a prophet, and in the dogmas of the Church a
cynosure to direct the human mind in the perilous and unexplored regions it
had so resolutely entered.

Our definition may be objected to upon the ground that it leaves us in total
ignorance as to the import of the system we define. It does not throw any
light upon its essential character, and may even be regarded as simply
tautological, as equivalent to the statement that the Mediaeval philosophy
is the philosophy of the Middle Ages. We readily admit that, in defining
Scholastic philosophy as the philosophy of the Middle Ages, we do not
pretend to give what logicians would call an essential definition. But, is
it possible to give an essential definition of a system of thought? Can we
enclose within the narrow compass of a definition the essential
characteristics of a philosophy? It is related that Hegel, having been
asked to give a brief exposition of his system, answered that it was not a
thing that could be said in a few words. An essential definition of a
philosophy is bound to be incomplete, and, in so far, erroneous. Mr.
Maurice de Wulf who, in his remarkable work on neo-Scholasticism, has
objected to Hauréau's definition on account of its failure to give an
insight into the Scholastic doctrine, has not been able to give the
essential definition which the first chapters of his book had led us to
expect. In point of fact, he has given no definition at all. He has
exposed, in 64 octavo pages, what he considers the essential characteristics
of Scholastic philosophy, has summed up his exposition in a description
which contains no less than 242 words, telling us that such a definition is
still incomplete, that it contains only a few of the characters of
Scholastic philosophy, and that an integral definition whould comprise them
all.[3]

An attempt at a more acceptable essential definition has been made quite
recently by Mr. Elie Blanc. He has defined Scholastic philosophy as a
spirit, a method and a system:

If, for the sake of brevity, we limit ourselves to saying that Scholastic
philosophy is a spirit, a method and a system, our definition is not
essential, because it leaves us in a complete ignorance as to what that
spirit, that method and that system are; and is also worthless, because it
can be applied to all philosophies, inasmuch as they all possess a spirit,
follow a method, and constitute a definite system. It is true that Mr.
Blanc explains what the spirit, the method and the system are. But the
method is an extrinsic and unessential character. The spirit, consisting in
a just endeavor to harmonize reason and faith, is extrinsic also. It simply
refers to the relation Scholastic philosophy bears to another science, and
ignores the fundamental principles of Scholasticism as a philosopgy.
Finally, the description of the Scholastic system as a perfectible system,
whose bases are found chiefly in St. Thomas, equally fails to give us an
insight into the contents of Scholastic philosophy. It does not tell us
what the system is, what distinguishes it from modern thought, what
consititutes it as a philosophy. Mr. Blanc's definition is no essential
definition at all.

Moreover, does Mediaeval philosophy possess any distinctive character, any
idiosyncrasy which sets it apart from ancient as well as from modern
thought? We fully realize that we here approach a difficult question, which
has been already studied from different points of view, and not yet been
satisfactorily answered.

Some writers have thought they could solve the difficulty by simply saying
that Scholastic philosophy is no philosophy at all. This view was professed
by the French encyclopedists of the eighteenth century, who no doubt had
powerful personal motives of dislike for Mediaeval speculation. They pitied
all who lose their time in the study of such vain subtleties, and Diderot
went so far as to say of Duns Scotus that a man who would know all that he
has written would know nothing.

This kind of shallow contempt soon spread over all Europe. it became a
point of fashion to deride the cloisters and the monks. The ass gloried in
the kick he could give to the dying lion. In the second half of the
eighteenth century, Bruker spoke of the introduction of Aristotle's
philosophy into Europe as the signal of the most complete intellectual
degeneration. More recently, Taine has given the epoch of the great masters
of the thirteenth century as an age of stupidity: "Three centuries at the
bottom of this black pit did not add a single idea to the human mind."[5]
Mr. Penjon has described the period which elapsed between the edict of
Justinian (529) and the Renaissance as a sort of entr'acte during which
there was no philosophy.[6] Hegel himself, whose system presents so
striking a resemblance with those of the Scholastics that one might be
tempted to believe he has borrowed directly from them, does not hesitate to
profess the same contempt. Speaking of Scholastic philosophy, he says: "It
is not interesting by reason of its matter, for we cannot remain at the
consideration of this; it is not a philosophy."[7]

After modern erudition has had the courage to go back to the much-despised
era, and to remove the dense veil of ignorance which covered the works of
its thinkers; after such men as Cousin, Hauréau and Picavet have displayed
to the world the treasures of philosophical learning which lay concealed in
those dusty folios, the superficial disdain of the precedding generation has
disappeared, covered with shame. Men have repudiated the idea of a
Mediaeval entr'acte, and have understood that the "dark ages" are not dark
in themselves, but are dark simply for us on account of our ignorance.

There being thus nowadays no possibility of abiding by what the Germans have
called: der Sprung uber das Mittelalter, and Scholastic philosophy
being evidently something, the necessity of determining precisely what it is
imposes itself upon us. And here the difficulty lies.

It is unnecessary to say that Mediaeval philosophy is not a single system.
Embracing, as it does, several centuries of incredible intellectual
activity, it must needs present that variety of opinions which is the
invariable concomitant of all human speculations. A rapid glance at the
whole field of Mediaeval thought will not be out of place here, and will
furnish us with an insight into the essential characteristics of Scholastic
philosophy. We shall first examine the problem which has often been
regarded as comprising within its limits the whole drift of Scholastic
discussions: the problem of universals. Mr. de Wulf has recently blamed
Hauréau for regarding it as the sole Scholstic problem. And indeed we agree
with the distinguished professor of Louvain in admitting that the Mediaeval
thinkers did not confine their investigations to a single particular
question, but embraced the whole field of philosophy. The problem in germ,
not only the Mediaeval systems of thought, but likewise the answers which,
in modern times, have been given to all great problems of philosophy.

It is unnecessary to say that Mediaeval philosophy is not a
single system. Embracing, as it does, several centuries of incredible
intellectual activity, it must needs present that variety
of opinions which is the invariable concomitant of all human
speculation. A rapid glance at the whole field of Mediaeval
thought will not be out of place here, and will furnish us with
an insight into the essential characteristics of Scholastic philosophy.
We shall first examine the problem which has often been
regarded as comprising within its limits the whole drift of
Scholastic discussions: the problem of universals. Mr. de Wulf
has recently blamed Hauréau for regarding it as the sole Scholastic
problem. And indeed we agree with the distinguished
professor of Louvain in admitting that the Mediaeval thinkers
did not confine their investigations to a single particular question,
but embraced the whole field of philosophy. The problem
of universals should not, however, be undervalued, as it contains
in germ, not only the Mediaeval systems of thought, but likewise
the answers which, in modern times, have been given to all great
problems of philosophy.

If we start from nominalistic principles, if we admit with
Roscelin that the universal is a mere name, a mere flatus vocis,
and that nothing but the individual is real, the outcome of our
philosophy will be materialism and phenomenalism. We will at
first admit with John Stuart Mill that "a class, a universal, a
genus or a species is neither more nor less than the individual
substances themselves which are placed in the class; and that
there is nothing real in the matter except those objects, a common
name given to them, and common attributes indicated by
the name."[8] We shall next be bound to extend our theory to
the relation of the whole and its parts; and inasmuch as the
whole bears to the parts the relation of a universal to a particular
we shall have to maintain that the parts alone possess
reality and are themselves wholes. When Abelard, in his letter
to the bishop of Paris, accused Roscelin of implicitly holding
that Jesus, instead of eating, as the Gospel says, a part of a
fish, ate a part of a word, he was undoubtedly wrong. Roscelin's
assertion that the universal was a mere word did not bind
him to admit that the fish was a mere word. But it compelled
him to profess that the fish as such had no reality; that it was
nothing but a complex of ultimate beings, or molecules; and
that Jesus ate a certain number of those molecules, which could
be called parts of a fish only in virtue of our mental propensity
to build those universals which are absolutely devoid of reality.

Nominalism thus leads us to materialism. It is radically
opposed to the belief that the, universe is a whole, and cannot
admit any other absolute than the molecules, the atoms, the
ultimate divisions of matter, by whatever name we may choose
to call them.

And if, from the objective, we pass to the subjective field, we
shall see that nominalism is likewise the ancestor of empiricism
and phenomenalism. In the realm of mind, as well as in the
realm of matter, the individual will be the ultimate reality.
There will be no soul-substance lying beyond our mental states,
but fugitive impressions, each of which will possess its own independent
existence. Experiences of memory themselves will
have no validity apart from the present instant, and we shall
be bound to admit what Mr. Josiah Royce has described under
the name of Mysticism.

As Roscelin applied his doctrine to the mystery of the Holy
Trinity; and, in agreement with his principles, concluded that
the oneness of the three divine persons is not real; that the
Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost are not one God but three
Gods, he was formally condemned at the Council of Soissons, in
1092, and Nominalism was thus killed for more than two centuries,
and did not reappear till the days of Ockam.

Realism, in its most extreme form, had been professed by
Plato; and, as the first period of Mediaeval speculation was
decidedly Platonic, extreme Realism, in spite of its pantheistic
tendencies, became the orthodox belief. It must be observed
here that Mediaeval realism has nothing in common with what
we call realism to-day. It is the doctrine that the universal is
not merely a mental construction, but possesses an objective
reality; is, in point of fact, the only reality. Plato, as is well
known, had taught that the real world is the world of ideas, and
that the phenomenal world, our own world, possesses reality only
in so far as it participates in the truth of the ideal world. This
view, if logically followed out, will lead us to the conclusion
that reality is of a mental nature. We shall be bound to admit
with Hegel that "What is reasonable is actual, and what is
actual is reasonable." We shall be incapable of avoiding monism
in its most extreme form. If the universal possesses an
objective reality, then being is real; and, as the universal term
being can be applied to all things whatsoever, we shall have to
admit that a being exists which contains all reality within itself.
It is to realism therefore that most of the pantheistic systems of
the Middle Ages must be traced back.

Prior to the formulation of the problem of universals, Scotus
Erigena had already maintained that God is more than a creator,
that he is in all things as their sole substance: "Cum ergo
audimus Deum omnia facere, nihil aliud debemus intelligere
quam Deum in omnibus esse, hoc est, essentiam omnium subsistere.
Ipse enim solus per se vere est, et omne quod vere in his
quae sunt dicitur esse ipse solus est."[9]

In spite of the incongruity of this view with the teaching of
the Church -- an incongruity which eventually led to the condemnation
of Erigena's work in 1225, Pantheism again developed
under the shadow of the traditional realistic doctrine, the antiqua
doctrine, as Abelard had called it, displayed itself more
or less timidly, according to the propitiousness of the times and
the boldness of its supporters, and reached a definite form and
expression in the teachings of the great Pantheistic school,
which flourished at the end of the twelfth century, and counted
as distinguished members as Bernard of Tours, Amaury of Bene
and David of Dinant.

Closely connected with Platonic realism are also the Mediaeval
mystics. Mysticism, or the doctrine that the real is the immediately
felt, is, as we have seen, the logical outcome of nominalism.
It is interesting to notice that Mediaeval mysticism was
reached by the opposite way. If we start from the assumption
that the universal alone is real, we will be led to the conclusion
that God alone possesses reality, and that everything else is mere
worthless appearance. In what will man's perfection and final
end then consist? Simply in the immediate union with the
One, the Being, in whom all reality is centered; in a supreme
contempt for all terrestrial things; in the rejection of all profane
learning, of philosophy itself. And we have thus, in a nutshell,
the line of reasoning followed by Mediaeval mystics.

It was out of the teaching of William of Champeaux at the
abbey of St. Victor that the mystic movement grew. Strengthened
by the condemnation of Abelard (1121), openly protected
by St. Bernard, Mysticism found remarkable adherents in the
whole Victorine school. Human reason was mercilessly condemned,
dialectic was characterized as the devil's art, and Abelard,
Peter Lombardus, Gilbert de la Porrée and Peter of Poitiers
were denounced as "the four labyrinths of France,"[10]
because "they had treated with scholastic levity of the ineffable
Trinity and the Incarnation."

Pantheistic doctrines having been repeatedly anathematized
by the Church -- as in the Council of Paris, in 1210, in which
the teachings of David and Amaury were condemned and their
works proscribed -- and Aristotle having supplanted Plato as the
inspirer and the guide of Mediaeval thinking, there appeared a
modified form of realism, which had been already foreshadowed
by St. Anselm, and probably also by Abelard, and which has
remained since then the official Scholastic doctrine. Albert of
Bollstadt, usually known as Albert the Great, must be credited
with its first satisfactory formulation. He distinguished three
kinds of universals: First, the universale ante rem, existing in
the mind of God; second, the universale in re, existing in the
external object; third, the universale post rem, existing in the
known subject.

This new form of realism, which escapes the extravagant
issues of nominalism and extreme realism, has been too often
ignored by modern writers, who have represented Scholastics as
adhering en masse to the tenets of Plato and William of
Champeaux. The new theory denies the existence of the universal as
such outside the mind; but it admits in the object a potential
universal, which may be regarded as the foundation, fundamentum
in re, of the universal concept of the mind. There does
not exist, as Plato maintained, an ideal man which contains the
reality shared in a greater or less degree by all individual men;
there exist only Peter, James and John; but there is in Peter,
as well as in John and James, a peculiar nature, an essence by
which they are individuals of their own -- not of another -- species.
The universal ceases to be a word devoid of meaning; it
designates the very essence of the thing itself.

The ideal world of Plato did not, however, completely vanish.
It appeared in a new form which it had already assumed at the
beginning of the Christian era. The world of ideas became the
Divine Mind; and the essences of all things were regarded as
preexisting in the essence of God, as reflecting more or less
exactly the divine perfections. God's essence was thus described
as the causa exemplaris, the infinite prototype of all reality.
This is the meaning of Albert's universale ante rem.

Besides moderate realism, there arose between Platonic realism
and nominalism another intermediate theory, known as conceptualism.
The conceptualists were at one with the nominalists
in denying all objective reality to the universal; but, whereas
the nominalists saw nothing in the universal but a meaningless
name, the conceptualists recognized its validity as a concept.
They admitted that the universal is real and has a meaning,
but only in the mind. Abelard has been regarded for a long
time as the promoter of this view. The works of Rémusat and
Cousin would rather lead us to regard him as a moderate realist.
At all events, conceptualism presents a striking historical interest
on account of its resemblance with the Kantian philosophy.
It dissociates the mental concepts from the outside reality. It
shows that the synthetical unity of apperception is the product
of the mental categories, and does not agree with the thing-in-
itself, which remains unknown and unknowable.

The problem of universals has thus led us through all Mediaeval
systems of thought, and might likewise lead us through
the whole field of modern speculation. There are, however, in
the Middle Ages, as well as in modern philosophy, some questions
which do not present so close a connection with the nominalistic
and realistic principles. Prominent among them is the
dispute as to the superiority of the intellect or of the will.
Thomas Aquinas was an intellectualist; Duns Scotus was a
voluntarist. His philosophy bears to that of the Angelic Doctor
the relation that Kant's system bears to the system of Hegel.
The rapid survey of Mediaeval thought we have just made,
however incomplete it may be, is more than sufficient to prove
that Scholastic philosophy is not properly a system. Most of modern
systems, as we have seen, are either openly professed by
Mediaeval philosopher or implicitly contained in his principles.
What is Scholastic philosophy then? Does it present
any character by which it may be distinguished from modern
thought? To this question various answers have been made, all
containing a certain amount of truth, most of them being nevertheless
incomplete.

Some authors have defined Scholastic philosophy in terms of
its language and methods. They have claimed that the syllogism
was the favorite instrument of Mediaeval thought; vain
subtleties and endless distinctions its chief characteristics.
According to Mr. John Dewey, one definition of Scholasticism is:

"any mode of thought characterized by excessive refinement and
subtlety; the making of formal distinctions without end and
without special point."[11]

These views are true to a certain extent. Syllogism was
regarded by Mediaeval philosophers, and is still regarded by
some of their contemporary followers, as the most efficient form
of argumentation. The syllogistic form, however, is simply a
garb with which the schoolmen chose to clothe their ideas, and
which they might have discarded without any essential change
in their philosophy. It is a garb which is not peculiar to them
alone. Besides the fact that all modern systems of philosophy
could be presented in the syllogistic form without becoming
scholastic, it must be borne in mind that Leibniz not only praised
the syllogism, but used it in his discussions; that Spinoza expounded
his philosophy in a form surpassing in strictly syllogistic
mathematical character, all that had been written during
the Middle Ages. As for vain subtlety, it is certainly a most
common blemish in the works of the schoolmen, a real defect,
which often mars their most beautiful pages. But the student
of post-Kantian idealism, who has been compelled to go over
the works of Fichte, Hegel and Bradley, is little tempted to
regard vain subtlety as a character peculiar to Scholasticism.
He who has tried to clear the Fichtean statement that

"the reciprocal activity and passivity determines the independent
activity and the independent activity determines the reciprocal
activity and passivity";

its immediate consequence, namely that

"the independent activities of the Ego and Non-Ego do not
reciprocally determine each other directly, but only indirectly,
through their reciprocally determined activity and passivity";

and that

"the law of reciprocal determination is valid only in so far as
related to the reciprocal activity and passivity and independent
activity; but is not valid as related to the independent activity
alone ";

who has followed the author in the intricate applications of his
principles under the conceptions of causality and substantiality;
who has lost himself in that baffling labyrinth of distinctions
and sub-distinctions which cover more than sixty pages of the
Wissesnschaftslehre; who has finally got the conviction that this
eccentric and repulsive show of analysis amounts to little more
than nothing, can hardly accuse the Scholastics of monopolizing
subtlety. Applying to Fichte a word which Diderot said of
Duns Scotus, he will assert with no more hesitation and with
more justice than the French encyclopedist, that he who would
know the whole Wissenschaftslehre would know nothing.

Another theory, more widely accepted, has defined Scholastic
philosophy by its relation to theology. A formula, current during
the Middle Ages, and regarding philosophy as ancilla theologiae,
has been produced; and Scholastic philosophy has been
either identified with theology or characterized by its professed
agreement with the dogmas of the Church.

The complete-identification-theory has been openly professed
by Hegel. "The Scholastic philosophy, says he, is thus really
theology, and this theology is nothing but philosophy."[12] The
same view has been adopted, in a slightly modified form, by
Victor Cousin in his Histoire générale de la philosophie, and the
fact that it has been recently maintained by men professing so
divergent philosophical beliefs as Alfred Weber in Germany,
George Tyrrell in England, and John Dewey in this country,
shows that it is far from being as yet completely dead:

"The Church," says Weber, " is the predominant power of the
Middle Ages. Outside of the Church, there can be no salvation
and no science. The dogmas formulated by her represent the
truth. From the mediaeval point of view, to philosophize means
to explain the dogma, to deduce its consequences and to demonstrate
its truth. Hence philosophy is identical with positive
theology; when it fails to be that, it becomes heretical."[13]

"By Scholasticism," says Tyrrell, "we understand the application
of Aristotle to theology, or the expression of the facts and
realities of revelation in the mind-language of the peripatetics."[14]

Finally, in Baldwin's Dictionary of Philosophy and Psychology,
Mr. Dewey defines Scholasticimn as

"the period of Mediaeval thought in which philosophy was pursued
under the domination of theology, having for its aim the
exposition of Christian dogma in its relation to reason."[15]

In order to understand what amount of truth this theory contains,
it is necessary to examine briefly the exact meaning given
to the word philosophy in ancient times, and the way in which
the particular sciences have appeared and have been assigned a
definite field.

Philosophy busied itself at first with the whole extent of
human knowledge. In ancient Greece, Thales, Anaximander
and Anaximenes were primarily scientists. Shunning the
mythological explanations of the universe given in previous
time, they directed their efforts towards a cosmical theory more
in harmony with the facts of experience. It is by an observation
of the phenomena of nature -- as Aristotle points out -- that
Thales was led to the assumption that all things are made out
of water. Anaximenes explained the generation of fire, winds,
clouds, water and earth as due to a condensation of the first
ground of all things, air. Anaximander formulated a theory
of evolution which bears a striking similarity to the conceptions
of our contemporary naturalists. Aristotle himself did not
regard any branch of human knowledge as lying beyond his
jurisdiction. His philosophy covers not only logic, metaphysics,
ethics and psychology, but also physics, cosmology, zoology, politics
and rhetoric.

When, in the course of human history, the field of knowledge
was gradually extended; when it became impossible for a single
man to apply himself to all branches of learning, particular
sciences gradually acquired a technique, and thus became independent.
This movement towards specification was, however,
very, slow. Even in modern times, Bacon has hold that the
objects of philosophy are God, man and nature, and has included
within its scope logic, physics and astronomy, anthropology,
ethics and politics; and Herbert Spencer has defined philosophy
as a completely unified knowledge, and has published a series
of works, of which the titles: Principles of Psychology, Principles
ples of Biology, Principles of Sociology, etc., are sufficient to
show that the philosophy of their author is in keeping with his
definition.

At the beginning of the Christian era, the respective boundaries
of theology and philosophy were not distinctly drawn.
The two sciences were even generally identified. St. Augustine
had said:

Tertullian, it is true, had regarded philosophy as the mother
of heresies, and had not feared to formulate his famous: Credo,
quia absurdum. There is, however, every reason to believe that
he limited his condemnation to pagan learning; for he himself
did not fear to philosophize, and he gave a system of ontology
of which an idea may he had from the following quotations:

We have seen that Roscelin did not hesitate to apply his speculative
theories to the mystery of the Blessed Trinity. For
Abelard, as well as for Erigena, philosophy and theology were
one and the same. It must be remarked, however, that, in
Abelard's case, theology was not properly identified with, but
reduced to philosophy. In other words, theology simply disappeared.
Abelard's position was very much similar to that of
the modern Hegelian school. Religious mysteries, if not provable
by human reason, were mercilessly discarded. The words:
"Nec quia Deus id dixerat creditor, sed quia hoc sic esse
convincitur accipitur,"[20] which so deeply offended St. Bernard's
orthodoxy, may be taken as a perfect expression of Abelard's
view.

The respective boundaries of philosophy and theology were
soon, however, definitely fixed. The system of principles attainable
by reason alone was clearly discriminated from the body of
revealed truths. In Anselm's writings, although faith and reason
are held in close connection, they are no longer identified.
He says:

The great philosophers of the thirteenth century were at the
same time theologians; and, in their most important works, they
treated theological as well as philosophical questions. This fact
may account for the erroneous conception which regards them
as identifying the two sciences. The truth, however, is that
they carefully distinguished them, and gave an account of their
differences and relations which would not be surpassed by any
theologian in our own day.

Philosophy differs from theology in its object and in its
means: in its object, because, whereas philosophy is limited to
the truths human reason can grasp, theology also embraces those
which lie beyond the reach of our natural faculties; in its
means, in so far as the instrument of philosophical researches
is human reason, whereas theology is guided by the light of
divine revelation.

These principles were recognized by all great masters of Mediaeval
thought, and have been so clearly expounded by St. Thomas
in the first chapters of his Summa Theologica, that it is surprising
they have been so often overlooked. In the very words by
which the Summa opens, the respective boundaries of philosophy
Hand theology are distinctly fixed. St. Thomas proposes the following
objection:

With a far stronger foundation, some philosophers have
thought that, although Scholastics clearly distinguished philosophy
from theology and granted to the former a proper field of
action, it is in the peculiar relation in which they regarded those
two sciences that the idiosyncratic note of their philosophy must
be found. The general acceptance this view has received from
adherents as well as from opponents of Scholasticism, cannot
but lead us to believe that it contains a good deal of truth. It
has been accepted, among others, by Zeller, Ueberweg, Carra de
Vaux, Elie Blanc, Zeferino Gonzalez in Europe, and by William
Turner in this country.

"Scholasticism," says Ueberweg, "was philosophy in the service
of established and accepted theological doctrines, or, at least,
in such subordination to them that, where philosophy and theology
trod on common ground, the latter was received as the absolute
norm and criterion of truth. More particularly, Scholasticism
was the reproduction of ancient philosophy under the control of
ecclesiastical doctrine, with an accommodation, in case of discrepancy
between them, of the former to the latter."[23]

And William Turner, in his History of Philosophy, regards
the effort on the part of the schoolmen to unify philosophy and
theology as the most distinctive trait of the philosophy of the
schools. Therein he places the difference which divides Scholasticism
from modern thought:

"Modern philosophy," says he--" post-Reformation philosophy,
as it may be called -- was born of the revolt of philosophy against
theology, of reason against faith. It adopted at the very outset
the Averroistic principle that what is true in theology may be
false in philosophy -- a principle diametrically opposed to the
thought which inspired Scholasticism."[24]

One of the characteristic notes of Mediaeval philosophers is
no doubt their constant endeavor to harmonize their philosophical
doctrines with the revealed truths. It would not be fair,
however, to fail to recognize a similar endeavor in some modern
thinkers. One cannot without injustice absolutely assert that
modern philosophers have adhered en masse to the Averrhoistic
principle that what is true in theology may be false in philosophy.
Malebranche, De Bonald, Gratry, Berkeley himself, have
professed the same theological beliefs as Thomas Aquinas, and
have tried, with as much earnestness as he, to, harmonize their
philosophy with their religious faith. It may be claimed that
they have not succeeded so well; but the question now is not of
success, but of professed endeavor, and, in this respect, they are
not essentially inferior to the Angelic Doctor.

On the whole, Scholastic philosophy is primarily and essentially
the philosophy of the Middle Ages, and reflects the essential
characters of that time. The greatest power in the western
world, from the ninth to the fifteenth century, was doubtless the
Roman Church. The Middle Ages were above all an age of
faith. It is faith that directed the European armies to unknown
countries. It is faith that led myriads of young men to the
cloisters where, separated from the world, they devoted their
lives to prayer and to study. Under the shadow of faith, they
thought of the great problems of the world. Under the shadow
of faith they formulated their systems of philosophy. It is for
this reason that the dogmas of the Church were for them a
guide; that freedom of thought was assigned certain limits it
could not overstep. For this reason also the harmony between
philosophy and theology, although not peculiar to Scholasticism,
is certainly its most distinctive trait.

Scholastic philosophy reached its most perfect form in the
thirteenth century; and, in the hands of Thomas Aquinas,
became a definite system which might be described as Scholastic
more properly than all previous attempts. It is to this system
that neo-Scholasticism universally adheres.

Some men, to whom Scholastic philosophy appears as a bugbear,
have been unable to reconcile themselves to the idea that
such a philosophy might be revived. Behind the peaceful professor,
who discusses the theory of Matter and Form, they have
seen the papal power restored, the Church of Rome dethroning
sovereigns and imposing her will upon nations, funeral piles
erected anew, heterodox thinkers burned at the stake. As we
have already spoken in our Introduction, of the relation of Scholastic
philosophy to the dogmas of the Church and of the political
influence of the Thomistic revival, this form of opposition to
neo-Scholasticism shall not detain us any longer.

Other writers, believing that Scholastic philosophy is essentially
a thing of the past, have asserted that the word neo-Scholasticism
itself involves a contradiction. They have derided
the idea of covering old theories with a new garb, of giving a
modern form to antiquated doctrines. Their objection to the
Thomistic revival would be perfectly well grounded, if the historical
evolution of the world were such as many writers on
philosophy seem to profess. But a critical study of the various
systems of thought which have appeared on our planet during
the course of centuries will most likely render us distrustful in
this respect. As pointed out by Mr. Woodbridge, "Aristotle
reads so much like a modern that we can conceive his writing
after Hegel with no great change in his System."[25] Neo-Scholastics
believe that, amid some antiquated doctrines which
must be discarded, Mediaeval philosophy contains perennial elements
of truth that the fundamental principles of the Peripatetic
and Thomistic philosophy can be fully harmonized with
modern scientific results.

Even among the sympathizers of Scholastic thought, the word
neo-Scholastic has found opponents. Some have thought that
the modern defenders of the philosophy of St. Thomas should
not call themselves neo-Scholastics, but simply Scholastics, as
the prefix neo implies some modifications in a system which
should remain intact. St. Thomas's philosophy, have they
maintained, should be accepted in its entirety or not be accepted
at all. This thesis was defended by C. M. Schneider in the
review Saint-Thomasblatter. It has been defended more recently
by Father Janvier, who would adopt, not only the teachings,
but the very method and style of St. Thomas:

As was to be expected, such views have not met with a welcome
acceptance. Some parts of St. Thomas's teaching are so
evidently obsolete that it, would be ridiculous to revive them
to-day. His doctrine of the four elements, his belief in the
influence of heavenly bodies upon generation, and many similar
theories, cannot become again the object of philosophical discussion.
The method and language of the Scholastics must also
be modified. If the defenders of St. Thomas's philosophy want
to come in contact with modern thought, if they want to see
their doctrines discussed in philosophical circles, they must needs
adopt modern methods and modern forms of expression. An
opposite course of action would ostracize them from the thinking
world, and thereby render their work null.

It has been finally claimed that the new Scholastic movement,
being essentially a revival of St. Thomas's philosophy, ought to
take the name of neo-Thomism. To this objection also have
neo-Scholastics, successfully replied. The Scholastic revival follows
chiefly St. Thomas because St. Thomas has brought Scholastic
philosophy to its perfection. He has built a concrete
system of thought which surpasses in coherence and grandeur
all other Mediaeval systems. The adherence to St. Thomas is,
however, neither servile nor exclusive. The tenets of the other
Scholasties are carefully studied and given the preference whenever
they prove more satisfactory to human reason. In point
of fact, the words neo-Thomism and neo-Scholasticism are often
regarded as convertible terms, although, strictly speaking, neo-
Scholasticm is more proper.

The first task neo-Scholastics have assumed has naturally
been an adequate and critical study of the Mediaeval philosophers.
The works of St. Thomas have been edited anew and
carefully studied. The same has been done with regard to all
great Mediieval writers. Let us mention the Leonine edition
of the works of Thomas Aquinas, begun at the order and under
the protection of Pope Leo XIII, and published in Rome in
1882; the edition of Duns Scotus's works, published in 1891,
and comprising twenty-six volumes quarto; the edition of St.
Bonaventure's works, published since 1882 by the Franciscans
of Quaracchi, near Florence, and completed a few years ago; the
collection: Beitrage zur Geschichte der Philosophie des
Mittelalters, published in Munster, since 1891, under the direction
of Mr. Baeumker; the collection: Les Philosophes du Moyen Age,
begun quite recently at the University of Louvain.

These historical works are not, however, the most essential
element of the neo-S~cholastic program. The dearest aim of the
neo-Scholastics is not to study Mediaeval systems in themselves,
to dissect them and present them to the curious, as stuffed birds
in a museum. It is to give them a new life, to make them meet
the requirements of our day, to render them actual. In order
to be successful in this task, they study the intrinsic value of
the solutions proposed by the Mediaeval thinkers to the great
problems of the world, they reject those which the progress of
modern science has shown to be erroneous, they discard useless
questions, they accommodate Scholastic philosophy to the modern
spirit. In so doing, they act in complete harmony with the
instructions given by Leo XIII in the encyclical AEterni Patris,
whose contents might be summed up in the formula universally
adopted by neo-Scholastics as the motto of their school: vetera
novis augere.

The modifications introduced by neo-Scholastics on the philosophy
of the Middle Ages may be classified under three heads:

The first bears upon language and method. Distinguished
neo-Scholastics, it is true, cling to the Latin language and to
the Thomistic method of argumentation. Some of the most
important contributions to the Thomistic revival are written in
Latin and do not greatly depart from St. Thomas's method.
Let us me~ntion the collection Philosophia Lacensis and the
works of the celebrated Spanish Jesuit Urraburu. Like St.
Thomas in the Summa Theologica, the authors of these works
begin with an exposition of the various opinions about each question,
give their own solution as the body of the chapter, and
end with a resolution of the objections proposed by the antagonistic
schools. The greater number of neo-Scholastics, however,
depart from this strictly Scholastic method. They discard the
syllogistic form of argumentation and write their works in modern
languages. The fact that the authors who have thus modified
the Scholastic method have succeeded in attracting the
attention of the non-Scholastic world, whereas the learned treatises
written in Latin have been comparatively neglected, shows
that modern languages and methods are nowadays more efficacious
instruments than Latin for philosophical discussion.
Latin is not known to-day; and, as the years go on, its importance
will still decrease. This is an evil no doubt, but an evil
we must accept. If we present to the world philosophical doctrines
expressed in a language which the world ignores, our
efforts will be vain, our labor useless.

With regard to history, neo-Scholastics have also somewhat
departed from the attitude of their Mediaeval predecessors. Historical
investigations were not neglected during the Middle
Ages. They were, however, made from a point of view totally
different from our own. When the old Scholastics studied the
philosophical opinions of their predecessors, their aim was not
so much the knowledge of the views of such or such a man as
the knowledge of truth. They had not the idea that a man
could study history for history's sake, could devote his time to
an understanding of antagonistic philosophical systems, and
expound opposite theories without professing any opinion of his
own. The study of the tenets of the great thinkers of the past
is no doubt a most powerful means of getting definite philosophers
ical convictions. A philosophical problem can hardly be solved
in a satisfactory manner, when the solutions given to the same
question in previous time are ignored. The aim of the Scholastics
in their study of history was thus most laudable, and,
to a certain extent, must become our own aim.

Historical studies have, however, acquired in our day an
importance which the Mediaeval philosophers did not imagine.
The doctrines of a thinker are now studied in and for themselves.
We try to understand and to imbibe the very spirit of
the philosophers. We are scrupulously careful not to attribute
to them opinions which they did not profess.

Some of the early neo-Thomists have been loath to enter into
this modern current. The late Spanish professor Orti y Lara
regarded historical studies as a vain bibliomania.[27] This
inexcusable indifference has now wholly disappeared. Mr. de Wulf,
in a recent work: Introduction à la Philosophie néo-
Scholastique, in which the program of the neo-Scholastic movement is most
definitely traced, strongly insists upon the importance of historical
investigations. A similar insistence is found in the
numerous articles, pamphlets, etc., published by Mgr. Mercier
during the last twenty years. The important historical studies
published by neo-Scholastics, and of which we have already
spoken, show that, on this point, they act in perfect conformity
with their principles. Not only have they studied the Middle
Ages, but they have made important contributions to the study
of modern philosophical literature. Suffice to mention the
works of Mercier and Sentroul on Kant, Halleux's Evolutionisme
en morale, which contains a remarkable criticism on Spencer's
System of Ethics, Janssens's treatise on Renouvier's neo-criticism,
Rickaby's recent study on Hobbes, Locke, Hume and
Mill.

Neo-Scholasticism finally strives to keep abreast with modern
scientific progress. In so doing, it does not precisely depart
from the attitude of the Mediaeval philosophers. For too long
a time it has been believed that the monks of the Middle Ages
were unconcerned with science, and, regardless of the data of
experience, built their systems a priori. This view cannot be
held to-day. It is well known that the great Scholastic philosophers
were enthusiastic investigators of nature; that Thomas
Aquinas, Albert the Great, Roger Bacon, etc., were true scientists.
The prodigious development of science in modern times
has made it difficult for the philosopher to possess a deep scientific
knowledge. Albert the Great and Roger Bacon could boast
of having mastered all sciences. Not only would the same be
impossible to-day, but philosophers are often apt to build their
speculative systems without taking scientific data into account.
And there thus result those strange philosophical theories which
provoke the laughter of scientists and bring discredit upon
philosophy itself.

Neo-Scholastics have not always escaped this danger. As we
see in our chapter dealing with neo-Scholasticism in Italy,
the early Roman Thomists regarded scientific investigations
with the utmost contempt. Their ignorance of science often
led them to ridiculous assertions. Thus, Cardinal Mazella,
defending in his De Deo Creante, the view that the days of
Creation are days of twenty-four hours, and somewhat perplexed
by the fossils, which geology proves to have existed in the strata
of the earth for long periods of time, does not hesitate to believe
that God created them in statu perfecto, just as they are found
to-day by the geologist.[28] It is hardly necessary to say that
such is not the position of the neo-Scholastics of the present
day. The works of Farges, Urraburu, Pesch, Nys, Mercier,
etc., evince a profound knowledge of all modern scientific discoveries.
The Institute of Philosophy of the University of
Louvain in particular is worthy of praise in this respect. As
we shall see in one of the following chapters of this treatise, its
scientific department, as regards equipment and results, has got
the start of some of the most famous European institutions.

Scholasticism is not thus a dead system studied only for its
historical interest. It is a system endowed with as vivid a life
as any modern current of thought, a system which must be
studied in connection with modern theories, and whose answers
to the great problems of philosophy can no longer be ignored.
The following chapters will be devoted to an exposition and a
discussion of its essential principles.